Cremation
by Brain Eater Jr
Summary: Near predicts Mello's death. See how evil Near could be? Set before their story arc.


**Cremation **

Living room, Whammy's House.

The following conversation between the two successors of L (M and N: predictable, if you consider the most popular alphabet) took place right after three o'clock in the afternoon. In other words, it happened right after the daily three o'clock prayer, where the children gathered together in front of a modest altar for prayer, meditation, reflection, and comfort.

Near asked Mello, "Why bother praying?"

He asked because he didn't believe in the power and sense of prayer. In fact, he had his own doubts about the capacities of the God that his peers worship. Consider the outbreak of Kira, for one. Worse than a virus, more of a force borne out of pure, human evil rather than something ontological, and therefore excusable. How can a good and just God allow this kind of suffering? Near asked.

Mello didn't answer the question. Instead, he told him, "I'm not interested in engaging in religious debate with you."

To this, Near shrugged. "You never answer my questions. Maybe it's because you can't. Can you, Mello?"

The older boy didn't answer. Annoyance easily crept to his face, although he tried his hardest to conceal it.

This only coaxed Near to continue his _inquisition, _if you will. "How amusing. I've always wondered why L would choose such a superstitious successor. As expected, your faith can't be rational. You can't justify yourself." He started twirling a lock of silver hair in between two fingers. A smile that Mello could only describe as _evil _played on his lips.

"I can justify my faith," answered Mello. Subconsciously, he put his hand in his pocket to hold the wooden rosary kept there. "But I don't feel like explaining my actions to you. You're too closed-minded to even listen to what I have to say, anyway."

The younger boy shrugged again. "I can't ever force you to do anything, can I, Mello? Oh well. I understand. You're much older than me, and the children here have much more respect for you than for me because you're much more sociable. So I suppose I can't blame you."

"Damn right you can't," replied Mello before he turned away, ready to leave the white-haired kid alone in front of the altar. He felt that it was about time to leave this strange scenario. (Anyway, it was always a strange thing when Near found it necessary to speak with his most bitter rival.)

He stopped in his tracks when Near said, "At least do something for me, just this once, Mello."

Mello, without looking, asked him, "What is it?"

"I'd like you to try out my new toy with me." Near's voice was accompanied by a shuffling sound.

The older boy turned around. Near was seated on the floor and was shuffling a deck of cards. "Since you're a superstitious man, I think you'd be interested with this game," he said.

Mello examined the cards in his hands. They were much bigger than ordinary playing cards, and they had intricate designs on the back. "Tarot cards. You want to read my fortune?" he asked with some mockery in his voice.

Near simply nodded.

"Forget about it."

To this, Near smirked. "I know how scared you can be, but there's really no need to worry, Mello. This is the first time I'm touching this deck," he said. But contrary to the words he said, there was no hint of reassurance in his voice.

Mello frowned and turned away. He decided that it would be better if he just left the room. It would be much better for both of them if he never spoke to Near again, because all he wanted to do, really, was to murder the boy.

He didn't move from his spot, though. _Couldn't, _was more likely. It wasn't due to the power of curiosity, either, but another force entirely…

Something that Mello was too afraid to acknowledge.

"There, see? You want to know your future." More shuffling noises. "It's okay. You can just stand there. I'll just tell you what I see in your future from here."

Mello hoped he just imagined it, but he felt that the voice was practically dripping with malevolence.

"So, what do you want to know, Mello? I doubt that you'd have much of a love life… I don't want your reading to influence your performance in school, so let's not ask about your grades… let's keep L's true successor as a mystery, it would be much better that way, wouldn't it?... Hm… you know, deciding on which aspect of the future to read is a tricky thing." It sounded like he was having fun.

"Bastard. Just stop it already," said Mello. He thrust his hand into his pocket to touch his rosary again. His hand shook violently as he did. He couldn't understand why.

"You're curious, though." He imagined that Near sneered at him when he said this. "I think I'll start with something light. Like, where would you be a couple of years from now?"

_Shuffle shuffle. Tap-tap-tap. _

"… three guesses where, Mello?"

"Shut up. I'm not bloody interested."

"You're no fun at all. I don't understand why the other kids like you so much. Anyway, from what I can guess here, you won't be in England anymore. Seems you're moving further West."

Mello closed his eyes and swallowed. There are very few scenarios he could think of for the moment on how he'd leave England within two years. The first of them would be if L died, and Mello had to continue the Kira investigation in the West. Another would be if he ran away for a completely unrelated reason. The third would be if he died, and his corpse would be returned to its mother country.

Suffice to say that none of them are pleasing.

"So… what would you want to know next, Mello?" asked Near.

"Do you really want to know?" Despite his nervousness, Mello knew that he had to at least _act _like he's not falling for anything that Near was saying. He tried laughing, but suddenly it sounded a bit… _bitter. _"What I really want to know, Near, is when and how you're going to die. Can you tell me that?"

Silence. No shuffling noises.

Mello smiled to himself and shrugged. "If you can't tell me that, then I don't have to listen to your crap anymore, do I, Near?" he asked.

To his surprise, Near answered, "Fine, Mello. I'll tell you."

_Shuffle shuffle tap tap tap tap tap _

After the shuffling, Near was silent. "Well?" asked Mello.

"…"

"I knew it. Worthless game, Near. Try again next time," said Mello. He was almost able to will his feet to move again, but he stopped when Near spoke up again.

"… Kira."

Mello didn't answer. Instead, he turned around to face the so-called fortune teller, one eye dangerously larger than the other.

Near was nonchalant as he stared at his cards: Death, The Hangman, Nine of Swords. The cards themselves looked lifeless as they lay face-up on the floor. "Looks like Kira's the one who'll kill me. Face to face. Five or six years from now, in the East. Probably Japan. He'd look at me, give me a heart attack and I'd curl up and die."

"… you're kidding me."

Near shook his head. He was staring right into Mello's face.

"And that's all you'll have to say, Near?"

The boy shrugged in response. "Doesn't matter. It won't happen."

"You just read your future. Didn't you just say that you'll lose to Kira? It's terribly specific."

Near smiled that evil smile again. "There's no way I'll lose to Kira. Either L beats him or I'll beat him."

"Then what are you going to do with your prediction, Near?"

Looking straight at Mello, he said, "Simple. I'll pass it on to somebody else."

Mello fell silent. Again, annoyance crept to his face. "The hell are you babbling about?"

That smile never leaving his calm face, Near twirled a lock of his hair as he answered, "Why the worried look on your face, Mello? Here I thought you were too faithful to believe in these sorts of things."

"Fuck you."

Again, Near shrugged. "I just told you my date and manner of death, didn't I? And it's more specific than you thought, too. So now you'll listen to me, won't you, Mello?"

"I…" That freezing feeling again. Mello couldn't move. And now it was much worse since Near's facing him.

"That's nice of you, Mello. Don't worry, this won't take any longer," said the young boy on the floor. "Since you asked the cards about my death, I think it's only fair that I ask about _your death, _right?"

_Shuffle shuffle tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap _

"Near, this isn't funny—"

"Of course it isn't, Mello," he cut in, "We're talking about death here."

An incredible mixture of fear and hatred bubbled within Mello.

However, Near, that liar, seemed to think that it _was _funny. The usual impish smile played on his lips, and his eyes shone as he looked at the cards on the floor.

He pushed one of them towards Mello. _The Tower, _known to be one of the worst cards on a tarot deck.

"It doesn't look good at all, Mello."

He still thought it was funny, though.

"Simply put, you're gonna die early… what's this? Five or six years from now! A heart attack, too, although I _don't _think that Kira's responsible… somewhere far away, a cold place, alone, dark, but it seems that you're going to ask for it."

"Near…"

"I don't think it's a peaceful death at all, Mello. It's the worst you can imagine."

"What is it?"

Near looked up at him and simply said, "Fire."

_Hell? Is that it, Near? Am I going to burn in hell? _

Near laughed at him. "It doesn't look like you're going to live the good life that you wish to live, Mello. An irrational faith, loneliness, and finally, a miserable death dealt by somebody who's not even Kira … furthermore, it would seem like after all your efforts to beat me, you'll lose in the end. I don't think that's the result of a good and virtuous life."

Mello, of course, couldn't say anything. No matter how much you refuse to believe in fortune-telling, death predictions will always sound like death sentences. The mixture of anger and fear boiled black bubbles inside him—madness mixed in, the stress resulting from Near's gaze…

As his vision shook and darkened in terrible ways, all he could do at that moment was to hold onto the cross more forcibly.

"So, Mello, what do you think?"

"I think—" Mello began, pulling out the wooden rosary from his pocket, "I'll not listen to this nonsense anymore, Near."

Upon seeing the rosary, Near frowned.

"It's funny, though, how creative you are. I didn't expect that from a puzzle freak like you," said Mello, his confidence growing. "I don't need to listen to what you have to say. I'll become number one, whether you say so or not."

"You and your superstitions," said Near coolly. "I don't need to predict it using cards or any other mystic rubbish, Mello. The reason why you'll lose is because of your lack of initiative to cooperate with me—or at the very least, to listen to me."

Mello shrugged. "Then it's better for me to fail. I'd rather walk the path that God asks me to walk… and I doubt that I need to listen to the tirades of a demon boy like you."

It was probably due to the darkness in Mello's vision, but he could have sworn that Near hissed after his speech. Suddenly, he yelled, "Your god is worthless!" With some force, Near stood up. In a rare fit of emotion, he growled, "Do you honestly think that this god of yours cares about what's happening to humanity? It's all fake, Mello, it's just your imagination. What we have is a godless society, with an idiot called Kira pretending to be god."

Mello frowned. "Why are you so adamant about convincing me to renounce my faith?" he asked.

"Because of that stupid faith of yours, you won't come over to my side…" Near also frowned, but after that, he merely shook his head, as if Mello were a lost cause. "Tch. You disappoint me, Mello. Closed-minded, as always," he muttered.

"Look who's talking."

They fell silent after that.

"You know, Near, I'm rather surprised that you feel strongly about this, so I'll answer your question earlier."

When the boy didn't say anything, he continued, "I pray precisely because it gets hard to be rational about my faith. You should understand that part of it is to accept that you'll never know the real reasons behind some of the things that are happening in the world, like Kira. We'll never know the reason why there is suffering in the world."

"It's a mere defense mechanism, in other words," muttered Near.

"Be disappointed all you want, Near," said Mello. "It's my turn to make a prediction."

Near shifted back into nonchalance, in a gesture that pleaded, _go on then._

* * *

Years later, Near watched as the members of SPK scattered the ashes of the martyred Mihael Keehl into the sea.

As he looked at the enormous sky, he noted how the dusk seemed to mimic a violent fire.

He remembered it then. After Mello made his prediction, Near told him to _get rid of that rosary in your pocket. It burns me. _

And, both of them, with some detached confidence in their voices, said _see you in hell. _

-end-

_Author's notes: Another weird-ass tale. Ah, once in a while, I wish I could write something nice, normal, fun, and brief. Never seems to happen. _

_I'm not preaching about the existence of God or anything, and I'm awfully sorry if I offended people here. I just wanted to write something that would make Near seem more demonic, that's all :D _


End file.
